Headology
by Triple Six
Summary: Numbuh One is lost, alone and being mentally tortured. Or so he thinks. An insight on the mind and the tricks it plays on us. It's also quite graphic in some scenes of torture. You have been warned.


Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish like hell it was, but that won't change anything.  
  
Numbuh One shivered as he drew his knees towards his chest. The black shadow swooped around him once again. He realised he had been holding his breath and let it out in one great shuddering sigh.  
  
The others would be looking for him by now. He had been gone too long for them not to notice. Maybe he'd be lucky and they'd find him soon... before...  
  
He trembled as the shadowy figure paced closer to him than before and buried his head in his arms. Why weren't they here yet?  
  
Every now and again he would have a vision of a greater evil. They came at random intervals. Were they planted in his head by the shadow? Or was he going insane? Another vision came and passed, leaving him shaking more violently than before.  
  
He heard an intake of breath near his ear and whimpered pitifully. He wished the apparition would go away. He wished he was in the warmth and relative safety of the tree house. He wanted to go home.  
  
"Mummy... Daddy..." He sobbed, suddenly sounding like the child he had been before the Kids Next Door toughened him up. "Please..."  
  
Numbuh One cried out again in terror and pain as he tried to draw himself away from the horrible being standing in front of him. It was scarring him, traumatising him, fascinating him... he could not take his eyes off it...  
  
He shook his head, his wide fearful eyes still riveted on the apparition, as though it would make it false... take away the truthfulness... wasn't real... it couldn't be real...  
  
And still the dark figure paced round him. Numbuh One shuddered, tears streaming down his face. The strange shadow knew his weaknesses. Oh, Numbuh Five... where are you?  
  
Another cry was torn from his lips as the spectre in front of him brought its sharp talons down on his unprotected chest. He writhed, trying to throw his tormentor off as he was gouged, ripped, torn... his limp body was then cast aside as a toy that has lost its fun value.  
  
Every movement caused a flame, every breath wracked his lungs. He keeled over on to his front and vomited painfully, retching even after there was nothing left to come up.  
  
"Help me..." He croaked, his throat raw with the screaming.  
  
A chain clanked somewhere near the wall. Another gruesome abomination was making its way towards the prone boy. The shadowy figure paced closer to him again and Numbuh One screamed in terror. It quickly turned into a scream of pain as the current apparition gouged at his eyes.  
  
He writhed and squirmed, trying to get away from the ghastly thing. Tears of blood mingled with the aqueous fluids that were streaming from what had been his eyes. An insane cruel laugh echoed from somewhere across the void... there would be no light at the end of the tunnel... for him there would only be darkness...  
  
He screamed as the talons descended again to complete the dreadful task.  
  
Numbuh Five had heard the screams and rushed into the room expecting to see Numbuh One's battered, mutilated body. She was surprised, therefore, when the scene greeted her eyes.  
  
Numbuh One was twitching. His eyes were closed and he was pale, but there was not a mark on him. No blood had been spilled.  
  
She turned to Simeon, the 23 year old blind healer of the Kids Next Door.  
  
"Is he any better?" She asked. He turned his sightless face on her, the light reflecting strangely off the cotton bandages that shielded the torn remains of his own eyes, lost in a terrible accident.  
  
"No." He answered, sighing heavily. "He has not woken. If I try to walk near him, he screams and draws away."  
  
Simeon looked sadly towards the area where he heard Numbuh One whimpering.  
  
"I do not know what weapon the Delightful Children used to gun him down, nor what elemental equations make up the energy beam that struck him, but it is not good. You must not let yourself be attacked again. Poor Numbuh One is an example of the danger that the Delightful Children have become."  
  
Numbuh Five nodded, blinking back tears. She couldn't bear to see Numbuh One like this. This was how he had been ever since he had been shot in the chest by a Delightul version of a 2x4 technology gun in the middle of a raid. It had done something to him and they couldn't wake him up.  
  
She felt a pang of empathy as she saw his struggling body.  
  
"Wake up from your nightmare, Numbuh One..." she whispered. "It's all just a nightmare, whatever you're seeing at the moment... whatever's happening to you... it's all just a nightmare..." 


End file.
